


Etched in Stone

by Lithiasaur



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, F/F, Fantasy, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-05-14 13:08:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19273966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lithiasaur/pseuds/Lithiasaur
Summary: An AU setting of knights, dragons, magic and war, borrowing the Steven Universe characters. Pearl, a dutiful handmaiden to the high powered family of an honored war hero, finds her life inextricably linked to cursed warrior from a kingdom her own is at war with. Yeah, it's basically beauty and the beast.





	1. A Boy and His Dragon

Staring up into the falling rain, broken body sinking a little into a bloody puddle of mud and water, Pearl remembered the night of the siege. That was the last time she felt this way. She smiled, closing her eyes and letting the rain fall over her face, her tears washing away with the heavy drops. 

If this was where she was meant to die, at least she knew she had done something worthy of a true knight. 

\-----

“General, why are you forcing the attack?” he asked, the only one brave enough to question the determined, legendary warrior. Said legend turned her sharp, piercing pink eyes toward the lowly new recruit in irritation, standing from the makeshift table they had constructed under the tent. Not reading the signs as aggression or annoyance, or perhaps just not caring, the grunt continued. “We haven’t had enough time to gauge the enemy numbers, and only half of our supplies have made it through the barriers! We’re charging in blind, and you’re throwing yourself at the front lines as if you’re looking for a sword to fall on!” 

A shared gasp moved through the other soldiers gathered in the tent. They were what remained of the commanders of their units. The grunt was the last member of his in its entirety, which was the only reason why Rose was now entertaining his presence. At least, as far as the others could guess. 

“You should know your place,” one commander growled, his face wrapped in a bandage from a wound he had taken while retreating his forces away from the castle in the last siege attempt. “You’ve no right to questio-”

“I have every right!” The young boy stomped his foot, bright blue eyes turning on the commander with the same kind of disregard for his rank as he had already shown their General, “If she is going to run out there and get herself killed, we should at least know why! How are you going to defend her to your last breath, like you so nobly swear every time anyone asks you why you turned tail and ran, if you don’t know how to protect her from herself? Recklessness is going to get all of us destroyed, and then where will we be? Not only without the capital, but without the only war general that has ever been able to succeed against these demons.” 

He turned, slamming his small palms into the table and leaning toward Rose, who was standing but not responding in any way. She stood there with her head down, helmet obscuring any thought that might be in those previously angry eyes now. She was no longer looking at the spitfire soldier, or her rabble of wounded, desperate commanders. 

“If you charge the castle, I will follow you, don’t get me wrong, General. I am just as willing to die or you as everyone else here, but I am not willing to let you die for nothing at all. If I have to fight you myself to make sure you don’t, then I will do just that. If you can’t convince me this is the only way-”

“Enough,” Rose finally sighed, sounding tired. She looked up, eyes shimmering. She nodded around the room, excusing everyone else. “Commanders, ready your men for a full scale attack. Prepare what weapons and supplies we have, but do not move a single unit until I give you direct word. Go now. You, foot soldier, stay right there.” 

The men and women in the tent bowed and exited as ordered, the young, passionate soldier left shaking in front of the table. Rage, fear, and even cold were seeping into his very bones, and he was not sure which one was making him shake so much in that moment. He turned, watching Rose as she moved to the tent’s opening and closed the fabric. It offered very little privacy, their voices still audible through the much too thin fabric, but it was more a gesture than anything else. She regarded the soldier curiously.

“This was your first battle, was it not?” Rose spoke after a thoughtful pause, circling around the thin soldier curiously. The armor was far too big for him, as if he had been given it by his older brother or father, and had not earned his own set just yet. At this rate, with this kind of wild abandon for structure and respect, he would most certainly never earn it. 

“I just enlisted,” he confirmed with a tight nod. His too large helmet almost consumed his head, the shield slipping down and snapping closed on his long nose painfully. He grumbled and pushed it back up in what was clearly a practiced gesture. It was not the first time that happened, and it would not be the last. “I came to serve you, and I won’t die until I see you to victory.” 

“Just me? Not your kingdom or your people? You have no hatred for your enemy, that I already know. I saw you spare those soldiers that killed your commander.” 

“They were children-”

“And how old are you? Do you think you’re a war hero, with only one battle under your belt? A battle, I might add, that left your entire unite dead. How is it that you survived? And had the soft heart to let the people responsible for all your teammate’s deaths go? You did not even take them as captives for us to interrogate. Did you think something like that would just go unnoticed?”

The boy was silent now, his bravado sucked out of him by Rose’s questions. His heart was thundering in his chest, and she noticed him look away from her as she drew close. She stood beside him, tall and powerful in her dented but still intimidating and beautiful armor. Armor that had seen many battles, yet never failed her. She looked like a Queen more than a soldier, and the power of her beauty inspired thousands of troops to give everything when fighting for her. 

The only one that seemed immune to that bewitching quality was this small boy before her now. He could not, or would not, look at her. Maybe it was beginning to sink in, just who he was yelling at so rudely. 

“I spared them because they were not my enemy in that moment,” the foot soldier said softly, voice dropping to just a whisper. Rose’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, but she said nothing as the other continued. “A monster attacked us. Something I have never seen before. A dragon. It attacked those soldiers, as well, and was clearly not fighting for them. Everyone was so busy fighting each other, soldiers falling to each other and the monster cutting them down without any regard. The two soldiers I spared… I asked them to join me to fight the monster, and they did. We attacked it, but it nearly killed one of them before it flew away. I spared them because they nearly died for me. We were the only three to survive, because we stopped fighting each other and tried to work together. I could not capture or kill them after that.” 

Rose watched the soldier as he struggled through his story. His head was bowed, the shield on his helmet falling down again but not getting pushed back up this time. He had his hands clenched tightly at his sides, and she saw drips of blood falling from his knuckles, rolling down from his palm. 

“What made you decide to be a soldier, when you’re so gentle?” 

The question caught him off guard, and he looked up at her while grabbing his helmet in irritation and pulling it off his head completely. He had a shock of short, light pink hair, messy and dirty looking from being under the helmet for so long and matching his muddy, blood-stained face. Rose put her hand on his shoulder, calming him, and offered him a warm, gentle smile. That smile was the only reason he needed, to throw himself into battle on her behalf. As it turned out, her bewitching personality worked on him quite well.

But she was not looking to inspire him to die for her. That was not what she wanted in any of her soldiers. 

“If you’re so determined, then I will have you by my side in this siege. Maybe you can come to understand why this move is essential for our victory in the war, by seeing me complete it.” 

“All I’m going to see is your head lobbed off by the demons in that castle! They use magic and witch craft to win their battles, and power their soldiers! It’s said they even sacrificed their first born so the second would be stronger!”

“Don’t believe everything you hear, especially not war stories. Nothing is ever as it seems. You must learn to keep calm, and view everything with two minds. Your own, and your enemy’s. I can see what they’re planning, and what time we have. None. We have to move, now. Are you still determined to fight for me?”

“I would die-”

“No!” Rose’s voice cut through the otherwise soft conversation, her anger rising. The soldier shut his mouth, taken aback. She gripped his shoulder tightly, close enough that he could smell the soft scent of roses on her skin. “I’m asking you to live for me. Fight beside me. Give me this incredible strength I see in you, and your gentle heart. I’m ordering you to fight. To stay alive. Will you live for me, soldier?” 

Eyes stinging, the soldier was quiet for a long moment. Not because he did not know what to say, but because he could not master himself enough to say it. Through streams of tears, a trembling jaw, and a chest filled to the brim with regret, love, and determination, the young boy managed a stiff nod. 

“I will fight by your side. I’ll keep us both alive. Beside you, I’ll even win this war.” 

Rose laughed, and the sound was beautiful. She hugged the soldier tightly, gratefully, and he simply stood there and let it happen, too scared to even touch her. Suddenly, he remembered his place in this whole army thing, and realized just how petulant and ridiculous he had been so far. How terribly she must think of him… and how much ground he now had to make up.

But he would serve her, as she told him, and he would make her proud to call him an ally. A servant. A friend. 

\-------

A cooling shadow fell over her face, causing her to shiver. She felt the rain stop, and she slowly opened her eyes. Through the blurs of color all around her, Pearl saw a large, black shape circle above her before swooping down and landing beside her. The dragon growled lowly, stepping closer and sniffing the bloody, prone knight cautiously. Pearl could do little more than turn her head towards it, finding herself staring into the face of the monster of her memories. 

It was fitting, for everything to come back to where it started. So it could end. 

The dragon let out a low, rumbling growl. The sound was powerful enough to send scores of soldiers running, the anger and hatred in it pure and palpable. She had heard it before, four years ago, almost to the day. It was strange that if brought no fear to her now, but she supposed she had already fallen. This was just a formality. There were sounds of movement nearby, and she saw the magnificent monster turn its head, its wings still extended far enough to shield Pearl from the rain. It snarled and hissed at whoever was brave enough to approach, though Pearl could not see if they were soldiers from her Kingdom or not. 

The dragon turned to her again, grabbing her with its massive clawed forefeet, rising up onto its thick hind legs to do so, and dragging her into the sky.

Now she was staring down, as the rain fell around her.


	2. Song of Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little talky, but here's some character and world building blather! More dragon shenanigans soon, promise. 
> 
> If you like this story, please let me know. The best way for me to gauge interest is by messages and notes, or just by kudos.

Pearl unlocked the front door carefully, not wanting to make too much noise. Around this time, the little boy was usually taking a nap, and she knew how grumpy he could be when he was woken up early. Easing it closed behind her, she breathed a sigh of relief at the silence that greeted her. Carrying her groceries into the kitchen. The market had been lively that morning, with more stalls than usual and full of people chattering in excitement. They were setting up for the annual festival of music, the most anticipated few days of the year. It was a time of revelry and a chance to relax, even while war still raged around them. 

There was one face she missed as she passed by the Mayor and his people in the square, and they were quick to remind her of it as well. Her master, Lord Greg, had not been present at any of the planning meetings, and they were very disappointed in his lack of interest this year. Especially considering he was the one that originated the festival, and was usually the leading act at the culmination of the event. Pearl did her best to ease their fears that he was too stricken to attend, though she could not make any promises on his behalf. 

Still, she knew how much it meant to him. There was just one thing that meant more. 

“My lord?” 

Pearl stepped into the library after unpacking the fresh vegetables and breads she had picked up from the market and putting them away. Greg was at his desk, but he was not working on anything. She had not seen him pick up a sheet of music or step near any of his instruments in some time. 

Not since she was called away.

“Are you okay, my lord?” she tried again, stepping toward him. She sighed, moving closer and reaching over his shoulder. She plucked the picture of Rose from his hand, one he had drawn of her when they first met, folding it and tucking it into the belt of her apron. He turned to her immediately, standing and almost knocking his chair over as she bounced out of his way.

“What are you doing?” he snapped, though she had at least managed to snap him out of his daze. 

“Putting an end to your pouting,” she snapped back, folding her arms over her chest. She had been the handmaiden of Rose Quartz’ house long before her mistress became a Universe, and though she only had a few years under his service to her name, she had already established her own weight in the home. In the last four years, everything had changed for her, but she endured and refused to be left behind. This castle, the child, the new husband, and now Rose being called away to serve a war she was meant to have retired from: there was no change that would make Pearl waver in her duty and loyalty to her Lady. 

“Give me the picture back, Pearl,” Greg said, holding his hand out. She waved him off leisurely, returning her hand to her folded arms after. He scowled at her, which was not a look she saw on him very often. He was a kind hearted and jovial man, but in the months following Rose being summoned away his mood had noticeably shifted. She had quite enough of his mood swings. 

“I’m sorry, my lord, but in her absence, the Lady Rose instructed me to look after you. As I saw her off to her carriage she took my hands in hers and told me how sad you would be, and that I would have to find a way to bring you happiness. While I have no ability to do that in the same way Rose could, I do know I’ve had about my fill of your misery.” 

Greg could only stare incredulously as she launched into her scolding, unable to even interrupt her and get a word in to order her around again. She gave him no chance to fight back, or even attempt to assert the authority he was supposed to have over her. How did Rose ever keep such an impertinent servant in her charge for so long without losing her mind? Were they not supposed to just keep their heads down and listen to their masters?

“The festival is happening, you know,” Pearl continued, moving over to the sorely unused piano and dusting it off with the bottom of her apron. She opened the keyboard, the worn, but loved, white keys glistening up at her. Her hands traced over them, and to Greg’s surprise she played a few notes to a pretty song he immediately recognized. She looked at him, spying the tears in his eyes, and offered him a tender smile.

She motioned for him to come over, and he, shoulders sagging and looking as if he had no choice in the matter, joined her at the piano bench. She perched lightly on one end, allowing him to sit down heavily at the center of the piano, though he did not bring his hands up to play. Pearl leaned toward him, nudging him gently with her shoulder. 

“I know you miss her, my Lord. Your son does, as well. We all feel her absence, but the last thing she would want us to do is mope around until she returns. And she will return. You and I both know that. So why are you wasting your days, crying and pining, instead of preparing something beautiful for her when she returns? This festival, you created it when we… when our Kingdom claimed this capital, and it looked like we were going to win the war. It’s supposed to be a celebration. Have you forgotten how much it means to everyone?” 

“What’s there to celebrate? Haven’t you seen the stories? The war is going bad: they’re fighting their way back, and they might even take this place back. What happens then? We’ll be singing at our own funerals.” 

Pearl smacked her hand against Greg’s leg and he jerked his head at her in surprise. 

“Did… did you just hit me?” 

“Lord Greg,” Pearl said, emphasizing the respectful name as if that countered his accusation, “if that’s how you really see it, then I’m shocked Rose would have ever wasted her time with you.” She held up the same hand that punched him to silence him now. “She fell in love with you for your spirit, and your music. All you ever had to do was make her happy: and now you can’t even bring yourself to smile. What if she returns tomorrow, and finds you like this? Avoiding your own festival because you’re scared of a war. Everyone is scared, my Lord. What they need, what we all need, is to sing of hope. And maybe… if she hears you… maybe we can bring her home safely.”

Greg was no longer sure if he was furious, insulted, calmed, or inspired. He stared at the dainty little hand maiden and began to think he could see what made Rose keep her around. What made them such dear friends, despite their differences in rank and circumstance. 

He turned to the keyboard, putting his hands on the keys and tapping them thoughtfully for a moment before he began to play. The same song Pearl had plucked a few notes from, but his hands created a melody that was full and beautiful. Pearl closed her eyes and listened, feeling the same warmth in her chest that she normally felt when she saw Rose in person. She placed her small hand on Greg’s leg for a moment, squeezing it reassuringly before she got up and left him to play. The song changed as she exited into the hall, into something new. Powerful, beautiful. A song of hope, she imagined, to take to the festival. 

She leaned back against the door of the library, tears running down her face. She bit her knuckle, shuddering and trying to support herself as her knees tried to give away under her. It took a few deep breaths before she was able to master herself, standing and moving away from the door, the beautiful music, to begin her work around the house. 

Her first stop was Steven’s bedroom. She was bright and smiling as she stepped inside, hiding any trace of tears. Steven was awake and sitting up in his bed, despite it being nap time. He immediately reached out for her with his little hands and she stepped to him, picking him up and giving him a tight hug. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked her gently, patting her face. It never mattered how hard she tried: he was the only one who could ever see the truth about her. She attributed it to his child like wonder, but ultimately she found him to be an incredibly smart and intuitive child. Sympathetic. His heart was going to be a very big part of his life, she could see that. He had a little trouble with his r’s, but he spoke very well for someone his age. Already three, she marvelled, hefting him in her arms to get a gauge of his weight. 

“Oh, nothing, Steven. Why are you awake, baby bird? Come on, let’s get you back to bed.”

“I heard daddy crying…” 

“You did? He misses your mother, that’s all.” Pearl cooed gently, sitting down on the toddler’s bed with him still in her lap. Not that she had a choice, as he clung to her tightly and buried his troubled little face against her apron. She hugged him, bending her head toward him and kissing the top of his head. “Don’t worry, she’ll be home soon. You’ll see. Can you hear that music? That’s your dad, he’s playing it for her. She’ll hear it, and she’ll come home to you and him.” 

“And you,” Steven added innocently.

The tears that stung her eyes were too sudden for her to fight against. Her hug tightened around the boy, the only thing of Rose’s she had left to treasure, and she took a deep, steady breath. She moved to reach and pull the picture she had taken from Greg and instead gave it to Steven. He was the one who should be able to see his mother whenever he wanted, as he was growing up without her. Half his life had gone by without her so far, and it seemed so unfair. 

“That’s mommy,” Steven informed, holding the picture up for Pearl to see. He saw the tears on her face and looked confused. She was missing his mom, too, he thought. He offered her the picture and another hug, and Pearl took a moment to steady himself. She cleared her throat and moved to put Steven down to go to sleep, tucking him in and leaving the picture on his pillow. He watched her carefully, but he could not deny how very sleepy he was now that he had been soothed by his nanny and tucked into his warm, comfy bed. Listening to the music that was filling the house, Steven smiled hopefully up at Pearl as she brushed her hand through his hair calmingly. 

She was quiet, unable to say anything, until he fell to sleep. She sat on the edge of his bed for a long while, burying her face in her hands and letting her tears roll slowly down her cheeks and nose. No noise escaped her, though her body shook with silent sobs, her hands gripping her soft pink hair tightly. Loneliness settled over her like a wave, and that helpless feeling broke her heart. If only she could go to fight by Rose’s side, to ensure she came home to those that loved her most. Those that needed her.

Far more than they needed a servant.

At length, she got up and left Steven to his nap, closing the door gently and wiping her eyes with her palms in an effort to compose herself. She stole away to the kitchen, where she was often alone save only when someone was particularly hungry and came sniffing at the source for a faster meal. Generally, she just chased them out. Now, she was glad she had set such hard rules or her kitchen, as it created a safe space where she could escape or endure her sorrows however she saw fit. 

For now, she opted to focus on making dinner.


	3. The Broken Barrier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, the dragon showed up. It seems kinda mad. 
> 
> Thank you for your feedback so far! Hearing from you guys helps keep me motivated, and is just a nice way to feel connected to my readers. Keep it coming!

The Kingdom of Chalcedony was relatively young, created in brilliant fire through a rebellion against the Greater Realm of Kimberley. Though small, it had already proven itself mighty, with powerful and loyal warriors to fight in its name. Rose Quartz was one of the most renowned of these noble knights, flying the banner of Chalcedony with no small amount of pride, and winning numerous battles in its name. The Kingdom was able to rapidly expand its power and presence, gaining territories not just through battles, but through diplomacy and winning the hearts of the smaller townships and villages that felt long abandoned by their crowned rulers. Uniting the disquieted, the poverty stricken and the weak, Chalcedony was able to create something radiant and capable of standing on its own. 

Still, the wars were long and unrelenting. When one ended, the Greater Realm found new reason to launch new attacks, doing everything in their power to crush the shards of their rule and quell the flames of defiance and resistance that threatened their complete power. 

One of the greatest blows ever dealt to the Greater Realm came when the capital city of Kimberley itself, iconic and the purest symbol of their kingdom’s opulence, fell to the rebel forces of Chalcedony. They were few in number, damaged and dying, yet led by the determined and ingenious tactical mind of Rose Quartz to victory. Or so the history lessons would say, for years following the rise and fall of each empire. The one detail they forgot to write down was the true key to capturing the capital city and castle, and felling the imperial family that there ruled. 

A small, barely trained, desperate but unwaveringly and incomparably brave knight that dared to face a dragon. 

\-------

“Fly the banner higher! For all to see! These are our colors, and we should be proud of them!” 

Pearl looked up as she heard the calling, smiling and shaking her head at the pitiful display. Really, how hard could it be to stand two poles, connected by a band of flowing banners, upright? They had weights on the bottom already, and it was not like they were made of pure stone. Just two thin poles and some fabric, and yet the four men struggling to set up the display made it seem like they were fighting a terrible and powerful enemy. 

And they were losing. Badly. 

“Stop yelling and just pull the damn thing up!” One of the four grumbled. Pearl sighed, pretending not to notice that it was Greg, her master, who was probably the least helpful of the four. He kept redirecting where he wanted the banners to drape, forcing them to move the poles, and allowing them to be dropped once or twice. Pearl was sitting on the edge of the fountain in the town’s square, Steven sitting on her knee and laughing every time something silly happened to the banners. 

Even he could tell it was a little ridiculous for one task to be taking so long. 

“Your father is a bit of a-” Pearl started, when a hand fell heavily on her shoulder and she jumped, looking up at the owner. She failed to even consider hiding her displeasure, moving to stand and cradling Steven to her chest. As if sensing the change in the air, Steven shot the intruder a glare and clung to his nanny defensively. Dewey took a step back, knocking over a forgotten bucket of water someone must have left there during their morning chores. 

“Pearl, my pretty little thing. Your master let you out of the house to see the festival set up, hm?” Dewey smiled at her as charmingly as he could, though his red face seemed pulled in a constant grimace no matter what mood he was in. Now he was just grimacing at her with his teeth half bared, which she assumed was meant to be a smile. She stared at him, expressionless, and Steven echoed the sentiment. Dewey attempted to adjust his too tight collar, clearing his throat. “Ah, I see he is… just over there. It is very good to see him out and about! There were rumors that he died, which would have left his poor child an orphan, right?” 

“Are you trying to make a joke, Governor?” Pearl’s eyes flashed. 

“W-well, yes, I-”

“Maybe it’s best not to reach too far outside your skill set, then. Aren’t there papers that need your signature somewhere? That seems a more fitting use of your time. And mine.” Pearl hugged Steven to her, and Dewey tried to clear his throat again, sounding as if he had swallowed a live frog that was currently fighting its way back out. 

“Forgive me, I must have misspoken. A rare error! Ah, Pearl, allow me to start again!” He bowed deeply with feigned chivalry, making Pearl bristle again. There was nothing honorable about the man, and his act fell flat. 

“I’d rather you didn’t.” 

He was not listening, but she was not surprised. He seemed to think if he just talked at her without taking any breaths or letting her speak back to him in any sort of conversational way was the key to winning her heart. He asked her time and again to come and work for him, promising her all manner of things, but she could not value all the treasure in the world high enough to justify having to endure him in a quiet, private place with no escape. 

“The festival is nearly ready! Your master came in here with such wind in his sails! I imagine it was your doing, as it always is. Such a loyal and dutiful servant! I would trade all ten of mine for just one like you,” He leaned toward her, but her only reaction to his attempt to flatter her was to wrinkle her nose. 

“I’m sorry, Sir, but Lord Greg seems to be done with the banners. Steven, say good bye to Governor Dewey.” 

Steven stuck his tongue out and did his best raspberry to date. Pearl had to bite her tongue to keep from beaming in pride. Instead, she pretended to chide him, using that distraction as a way to turn from Dewey and walk over to Greg, who was sitting, breathless and sweating, on the floor beside the now upright, but slightly off center, poles. She could feel the politician’s eyes locked on leering at her backside, but kept herself poised and did her best to help Greg up.

\------

It circled the sky outside the city, as it did almost every day. Far above the ground, out of sight unless someone was really looking, and small enough in the sky to be confused for bird, it stalked the edges of its magical barrier. Years passed, yet there was not one day that went by where it did not return to the same spot, circling, pushing, but unable to break through the invisible wall that kept it from its revenge. Its anger grew, exponential, each passing hour, each fall of night, each golden morning: every day it became more furious.

 

Every day, its blood lust grew. 

And then, as pink banners began to fly in the square below, its wing stretched further than it ever had before. Its circle allowed it to curl further toward the oblivious town below. Its shadow, obscured as it was from the height, crawled closer to the sleepy houses, the just waking rebels. With a roar, it plunged forward without restraint, its bonds broken, and it drove toward the town’s square with fire plumming from its mouth. 

And death in its golden eyes. 

\-------

Greg was up and had Steven in his arms, chuckling and pointing up at the banners that were hanging over the square. 

“That’s the flag of our country, Steven, you see? Chalcedony. Isn’t that pretty? And that one there? That’s your mother’s flag. Her soldiers made it for her, in her first battles as a General. They loved her so much, they just wanted to show how much they believed in her. Now we’re flying it, so she’ll see it and come home. How does that sound, little guy?” Steven clapped and nodded along, though he had heard these lessons before. He still loved listening to his father talk about his mother. 

Pearl watched from a few feet away, one hand holding on to the other dainty wrist in front of her, shoulders drawn forward and down under the weight of her thoughts. She was smiling, but the air was dense with sadness. Looking at the rose on the banner, the beautiful flower in a color very close to the brilliant pink that was Rose Quartz’s hair, made her heart ache. No one had seen or heard from the General in weeks, if the rumors and news stories from the front lines were anything to be believed. 

Without her, the war would be lost. The enemy were coming back for their home, their capital, though the King and Queen of former Kimberley died the night of the siege. 

The roar cut through the peaceful morning, drawing Pearl from her thoughts. She looked up at the sky on instinct, a shadow cutting across the square at a blistering pace. Heat spewed forward, and the banners that Steven was still pointing at were engulfed in flames. 

“Lord Greg! Lord Steven!” Pearl yelled, running forward only for a blast of fire to explode in front of her. The force of the sudden burst of flame sent her sprawling backwards, arms raised to shield herself from the pure heat. She skidded to a stop, struggling against pain and instincts to force her hands down and look toward the fire rather than away. Through the flames, she saw Greg on his knees, hugging Steven tightly to him. He was staring at something massive, something looming over him. Flames coiled all around it, as if its very skin was producing the fire. 

“Hey!” Pearl raced to the fountain, suddenly thankful for her encounter with Dewey that morning. She grabbed the bucket he knocked over, picking it up and dunking it into the fountain. While everyone else in the area was running as fast as they could away from the monster, Pearl raced toward it, throwing the water across its back. The water turned to steam almost before it touched skin, though the snarling creature did turn its head toward Pearl. She stood her ground, holding the bucket like it was going to turn into some sort of dragon slaying weapon. “Get away from them!” 

The dragon took one step toward her, and that cut the distance immediately. Instead of standing a few feet away, Pearl now found herself being stared down by a creature she could hardly comprehend. The heat was intense, her legs shaking under the raw pressure the seemingly molten body of the dragon produced. 

Its face was a cross between a dog of some kind and a crocodile, long muzzled and a mouth full of sharp, dangerous looking teeth. Its eyes were dangerous and wild, a brilliant and deep gold. It had a long, thick body a top four stocky, powerful looking legs. The back ones, particularly. The front legs were muscular and looked rather dextrous, and as it reared up onto its hind legs to loom over her, Pearl could see why. It was able to walk on both four and two feet, and use its hands to help in its hunts. It had a long, powerful, whip like tail that coiled and fluttered in the air but never seemed out of control. Every inch of it was a finely tuned muscle, and the monster could use it as yet another weapon. 

The strangest thing about the dragon was its fur. From its neck and head to half way down its upper body, it was covered in thick, white fur. Its tail, as well, ended in long hair like fur. There were patches of more fur on its elbows and knees, down its back, and over its massive, currently coiled wings. The fire and smoke masked the colors of its skin, yet some how did not set its fur alight. 

It regarded the hand maiden for only a moment before swatting her with the back of one of its meaty hands, sending her crashing into the burning pole of the banners. The whole thing fell down, wood shattering into splinters. The dragon turned back to Greg and Steven, hearing him crying out for Pearl in concern and terror. It grabbed Greg by the face, aiming for his neck and mostly succeeding, before extending its grand, powerful wings. Two beats and it was in the air, carrying Greg with it. 

Steven was left on the charred and clawed ground, crying miserably and watching the dragon fly away, while his nanny lay curled in a pile of broken wood and burning flags nearby.


	4. Web of Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pearl reunites with an old friend, and prepares for a new journey. Next time, our knight and dragon finally meet! I know, took a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry for the wait. It's been brutal at work, but I am thinking about this story all the time, and eager to work on it when I can. Thank you for your patience so far!

Pearl woke up to the sensation of cold water dripping on her forehead, and then a too-wet cloth plopping on her face. She grimaced and made a sound of displeasure in her throat, not wanting to open her eyes, until a familiar giggle reached her ears. Her eyes snapped open and she forced them to focus. Steven was floating above her and she yelped in surprise, sitting up and reaching for him only to realize he was being held by a familiar face. 

“Did it work, little one? It sounds like it did,” the woman hummed hugging the laughing child to her. He was absolutely delighted, which soothed a lot of the worry Pearl woke up with. She winced, her head aching, and looked down at the cloth in confusion. “He wanted to help you feel better,” the familiar voice explained, “I can see he did a good job, as you’re awake now.” 

“A little damp, but unharmed… Garnet… it’s so good to see you again.” 

“I wish I could say the same,” the other woman said blandly, offering Pearl the young boy and moving to stand. She reached for a cane that was resting next to the chair at the bedside, needing it to guide her as she stood. Out of courtesy more than anything else, she kept her war-damaged eyes wrapped, but even without the binding she would be unable to see. She had lost her sight fighting in the name of Rose Quarts, and the Kingdom of Chalcedony. Pearl blanched, but Garnet began to laugh. “I’m messing with you. I’ve missed you, of course. It’s been what, three years?” 

“Yes… just after…” 

She looked at Steven, who was currently clinging to her tightly. After seeing her get thrown by that dragon, and his father carried off into the sky, he had been pretty distraught. Garnet was able to calm him, and with the surprising help of Governor Dewey, bring both the child and Pearl back to her small home. Dewey had insisted on carrying Pearl, of course, but she had not awoken in time to notice his nobel deed, and Garnet had no intention of telling her. 

“Yes. Just after,” Garnet finished, with a passive smile. Pearl nodded her head, and cuddled Steven to her. After a moment, she looked herself over, but found no real injuries besides some sore spots and light burns from the intense fire. The dragon had not been there for her, it seemed, and really only wanted to take Greg. But where? She could not exactly ask Garnet if she saw which way the dragon flew off, of course. 

“The Governor has organized a search party for Lord Greg, and they insist the monster flew off to the east. There are many theories about where to, but no one seems to have actually witnessed it fall from the sky to land anywhere. By all accounts, it seems to have simply vanished.” 

“The east?” 

“Yes. I thought the same.” 

\------------

The hospital was set up in a hurry, ill equipped for the amount of injured soldiers being flooded to it after the siege began. And yet they endured, more doctors and nurses volunteering and arriving to aid those most in need, and even the untrained, but concerned, offered their time and care to assist knights in their rehabilitation. The manor they used for their hospital was certainly massive enough, an estate befitting royalty, however abandoned it had been when they got there. They filled its rooms with beds and cots, and anything else they could use to bring comfort to the wounded. 

The young knight woke up on an almost comfortable cot, though how hard they had tried did not immediately occur to him. It creaked as he tried to move, and something sharp poked him in the back. It might have been troublesome, had he been able to feel it. Instead, he was too drugged to know much of anything. His hazy eyes scanned the room, taking in blurs and shapes but no details. 

He could hear more than he could see in that moment, and he closed his eyes to listen. There were moans of pain all around him, people whimpering and begging for help. Distantly, maybe on the floor above, someone was screaming. Over most of those noises was the chatter of conversations. Mostly medical, doctors and nurses discussing patients, visiting them, explaining treatments. Delivering bad news or, he heard once or twice as time melted away around him, last rites. A couple times, he heard a voice close to him, reassuring, telling him he was doing well, and making progress, but whenever he opened his eyes to see its source they were just another blur. 

It was not until a warm hand took his, and a clear, beautiful voice broke through the haze. It silenced everything else that he had been listening to for days, drowning in. When he opened his eyes, he saw a radiant halo of pink hovering over him, and as he blinked, the haze cleared away to reveal her beautiful face, eyes filled with tears. 

“You stupid thing,” she said softly, lifting his limp, pale hand and kissing it gently. Fire burned through his chest, and he opened his mouth to say something, but, for once, no words fell out. Rose touched his face, brushed her thumb across his cheek. “I never should have let this happen… you were not meant to be there… none of this… was supposed to happen.” 

Confused, he watched her cry, her tears falling on his face. He wanted so badly to comfort her, to move, but his arms refused to respond to him. His body felt disconnected, as if he were trapped only in his mind. He called to her, her voice echoing in his head, but none of his words making it to life outside his throat. He lost control of his consciousness once again, falling into another deep, yet troubled and nightmare filled sleep. Still, he listened. Mumbles at first, nearby, that turned into whispers, that finally became words he could understand. Too late in the conversation to catch much, but he heard them. 

“Please, protect her. Help her home. I’m entrusting this one, privately important task to you, and I know I have no right to ask you for more than you have already given in my name. But please, Garnet. Don’t let me lose her.” 

\------

Pearl moved to get up, wincing and setting Steven down on the bed where she had been resting. He looked up at her, worried. 

“Are you okay, Pearl?” He asked her affectionately, his little hand shaking as he reached for her. She took his hand in both of hers, bending to kiss him on the head. 

“Yes, don’t worry, my little Universe. But I’m going to have to leave you here with the lovely Garnet, okay? I’m going to go and find your father.” 

“Pearl…” Garnet knew she was more speaking to her than to Steven, but using the child as a shield. She frowned at the tactic, knowing she could not exactly yell at her while being asked to take care of Greg’s son. He was a Lord in his own right, after all. Or at the very least, the son of a Lord and a champion of the Kingdom. If anyone was asked to take care of him, they really had no choice. But Pearl would not throw that weight around lightly: no, she was only asking because she was compelled to play the knight. To go and rescue Greg from the claws of a dragon. It was a fool’s errand, and yet Garnet had never known Pearl to be a fool. 

A reckless, determined, and brave romantic, maybe, but not a fool.

“If you’re going, then you’ll need some protection.I have armor, and a sword for you to take. They are not much, but they might offer you a little help against that dragon. I know I cannot tell you not to go, that you will regardless of what I say, or what you say to me, but… be careful. Pearl. There are a lot of people who would suffer if they lost you. Sometimes, I get the feeling you don’t know that.” 

Pearl looked taken aback, watching as Garnet walked gracefully from the room, barely needing her cane to navigate in her own home. Pearl looked to Steven, who had curled himself up on the bed, where it was warm from her laying there moments before, and fallen quickly to sleep. She pulled the blanket over him, smiling softly. Was she aware that he would suffer if she were killed? Yes, of course she knew that. But she also understood that his pain would be a thousand times worse if that same fate befell his father. She had to levy the risk against the reward: the boy needed his real family. While she had not been able to make his mother stay, she could at least bring his father home. 

Standing carefully, Pearl took a deep breath. She stretched, feeling better than she thought she would, but she was unsure how long she had been unconscious. Her head was aching, but only distantly now. Garnet, and apparently little Steven, had taken very good care of her. She picked up the cloth and deposited it into the water bucket that Steven must have dunked it in before dropping it on her face. 

“I’m going to bring him home, I promise. For you. For Rose. It’s my duty.” 

Smiling, she let the boy sleep and followed after where Garnet had vanished. The other woman was just heading back her way, holding a familiar looking bundle, topped with a sword and a shield. Sensing Pearl, she offered her the clothes and weapons. 

“I am a little taller than you, but they should fit well enough. I have the idea you do not mind the fit, anyway, so much as the durability. These kept me from worse harm in the war. Unfortunately, I have no helmet to offer you.” 

“Oh…” Pearl remembered the story of how her helmet had been smashed, almost crushing her skull along with it, as the dragon lashed its tail. Garnet had been in one of the front lines, however small they had been, when the assault on the castle took its worse turn. That monster… that beast… to see it back now, after all it had done…

“It’s alright, Pearl. Those are my memories, and my scars to bear. You have your own. But more importantly, you have a battle ahead of you. I wish there were more I could do to help you… maybe you should find Governor Dewey, and align yourself with one of his search groups. If you know where you’re going, then their help might be a wise idea.” 

“They would just be fodder for the dragon. I won’t do anything too dangerous: I’m not going to attack the place on my own. I’ll come back with whatever information I can gather, if I can’t get him out quietly. I just need to know…” she lowered her voice to a whisper, in case Steven was not as asleep as his light snoring suggested, “if he is even still alive. But thank you, really, Garnet. Once again, I’m in your debt.” 

“All I ask is that you survive. Then your debt, and mine, is repaid.” 

Pearl hugged Garnet tightly, almost dropping all the equipment she was holding. She quickly backed away and changed, Garnet helping her with a weathered, practiced hand to secure the armor in the right places. She had worn it for quite some time, after all. Once it was all settled, Pearl took a trembling breath, looking down at herself. The emblem of the pink rose burned brightly over her chest plate, staring up at her. She put her hand over the image, closing her eyes and wishing she had the real Rose there for guidance. 

“I’ll be back soon. If I’m more than two days, send the Governor after me. But not before that, please. Give me that much time to do what I can.” Garnet simply nodded at the request, already heading back into the other room, but she waved her hand at her friend without turning her head toward her. 

“This is not goodbye,” she said airily, disappearing from view. “I will see you again.” 

“You… what?” Pearl blinked, but there was no response. Was that a slip of the tongue? Blushing as if she had said something wrong, she felt a very strong urge to apologize for being insensitive. Except all she did was listen to it. Flustered, she headed out the front door, hurrying through the now completely empty streets to the Universe home. She did not enter the castle proper, but instead visited the stable and found her horse waiting for her. He watched her silently, long, fittingly pink hair falling thickly over his neck and face, wild not matter how they tried to brush it down or back. She patted his flank before readying him to be ridden, hopping into the saddle lightly.

“Alright, Lion,” she said, her voice shaking. “Just like if it were Rose, okay? Here we go.” 

She urged him forward and he burst from the stables at a full run, Pearl gripping the reigns and leaning down to avoid the wind as it whipped past. No matter the cost, no matter how terrifying or dangerous, Pearl would make good on her promise to Steven.


	5. Rescue Attempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pearl braves a magical forest, rude animals, and inclement weather in an effort to rescue her Lord from the clutches of a monstrous dragon. She comes face to face with the beast herself, a beautiful and strange creature named Jasper. The ensuing battle goes about as well as excepted, when a small hand maiden in borrowed armor stands against a dragon fueled by pure anger and hatred.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it was a bit of a wait, but here is the next chapter! It was actually pretty fun to write, and I'm looking forward to starting on the next one, if folks are still interested. As always, I appreciate the feedback. Thank you, guys!

“I think we took a wrong turn somewhere, Lion,” Pearl grumbled, as the rain soaked through her clothes. Though the armor would be good for absorbing blows and protecting her from damage, it did nothing to prevent her from getting chilled straight down to her bones. The pink maned horse grunted in response to her whining, shaking his head and splashing her in the face with his wet hair. She let out an irritated sound, but it was drowned out by an affectionate laugh quickly enough. 

She was beginning to think that her sense of direction was not as good as she had been relying: though her memory of this place felt clear and specific, the trail never ended. Every step seemed to be drawn out, as if the ground were rolling against them and cancelling out their progress. It was years ago now, and she had been injured and ill when she last walked this part of the forest, but the memory was burned into her mind from how arduous it had been. She pledged then to return, but she never followed through.

“If going the path I know isn’t working, then let’s try something different,” Pearl said, mostly to herself. Lion, for his part, flicked his ears toward her as if listening. She turned him off the trail she had been following, determined to break through whatever spell was haunting this place. At least things were beginning to look different, though she was not sure if that was a good thing or not. All she could be doing in the scheme of things was getting herself sufficiently lost.

Instinct told her that she was making progress now, even though she no longer recognized where she was going. It felt different, like she was actually moving forward and not trapped in a spinning wheel. Distantly, there was a low growl in the darkness of the forest around her, and she thought she heard the sound of padded feet in the nearby bushes. Great. The last thing she wanted to deal with was wolves trying to attack her or her horse. 

“You don’t want to go that way,” a voice whispered, causing Pearl to pull back on her reigns and bring Lion to a stop. He shook his head anxiously, digging his hooves into the earth as if he were not interested in stopping for anything. Pearl waited, looking around, but heard nothing else and urged her horse back into a gallop. A bird flew out of a tree as she raced under it, its large wings beating heavily.

“You’re running toward death, you know.” Another whisper, but Pearl ignored it. Rumors were this forest was cursed, and no one ever ventured into the darkness of its deepest trees. Pearl was all too familiar with stories of curses and magic, but she was not about to be spooked away from her goal. Let the voices talk to her: if they were not going to attack her, then she had no reason to be afraid. And even if they did, she would fight whoever she had to in an effort to get Greg back to his son. 

“Go, Lion, as fast as you can,” she urged the horse, patting his neck encouragingly. He would earn himself a very long rest once all this was done, and she would make sure he was sufficiently pampered for his efforts. Not that he led a particularly neglected life: he was a very well taken care of beast, for a leisurely lifestyle of pulling a cart around sometimes. 

“Are you seriously not going to stop?” Less of a whisper this time. It actually sounded rather annoyed. Pearl ignored it, guiding Lion around a fallen log and through a thin path through wildly overgrown trees. 

Once they cleared the trees, Pearl saw what she had been searching for, her heart leaping into her throat. The abandoned hospital still stood, but it was far more run down than she could have ever imagined. In only four years, it looked like it had decayed, walls falling in, windows broken both by time and violence. It was covered in vines and other kinds of plants, reclaimed by the dark, twisted forest around it. No flags flew outside it any more, from before its life as a hospital or after it was claimed by Chalcedony. It looked lifeless, lacking color. Even the plants that strangled the entire building were grey and dark. 

She urged Lion forward, though her pace was significantly slowed. He took a few careful steps, each footfall echoing across the empty, dead expanse of the manor’s front lawn. Pearl was thrown back suddenly as a bird burst from the forest behind her and swooped through the air, slamming into her face in a flurry of feathers. Very purpled feathers. Pearl fell off Lion, who reared back in surprise, and landed hard on her butt. Arms flailing, she managed to bat the bird hard and knock it out of the air too, gathering herself enough to watch it flop to the ground.

Immediately feeling a stab of guilt, Pearl crawled toward it, looking it over. It was a beautiful purple, big thick feathers covering its rather large form. It looked like some kind of owl, but not one she had ever seen before. “Poor thing… I’m sorry… you startled me,” she apologized, reaching her small hand to touch its feathers lightly. It lifted its head to look at her directly, and she stared back in confusion.

“You’re going to go fight a dragon, and you’re upset you hurt a bird? Oh boy, you really are going to die.” 

Not only was the bird speaking to her, but it was being incredibly insulting. It fluffed up its chest and raised its wings, fumbling until it got to its talons and settled its feathers again. It stared at her intensely, then scoffed, flapping its wings and taking to the sky with a laugh. 

“She’s right, you know. You have no chance.” Pearl jumped at the new voice, turning to find a green fox staring at her, swishing its tail behind it. It was scowling at her disapprovingly, then padded closer to look her over critically. It circled at her feet, looking up and down until she sat in front of Pearl and poked her thin leg with its paw. “You’re built like a stick. This armor is far too big for you, and will only slow you down in battle. Of all the knights to ever try and get through the magic, how is it you managed to appear on our doorstep?” 

“I… I’m sorry, I don’t feel too compelled to explain myself to a fox. Or an owl, for that matter. What are you two?”

“I’m an owl,” came the purple animal’s sarcastic reply, as it fluttered to land next to its green companion. The fox looked irritated, giving the owl a side glare. 

“And I’m a fox,” it added, reluctantly. 

“Right. Good talk, guys. The dragon lives here, right? I’m here for Greg, and if you two are the only defenses it has, I’m just going to head inside now, alright?” She turned from them, not even bothering to draw her sword, patting Lion and then moving toward the front door. It was completely covered in plants, a thick root of some sort imbedded in the wood of the door itself and laced into the door jam. 

Two animals raced by her and she watched as the bird transformed midair, coiling around and growing several times in size before landing as a massive, purple bear at the door. Beside her, a very large, strikingly green wolf sat down heavily and snarled at Pearl. The little hand maid decided to draw her sword now, staring at the creatures in shock. They could transform, as well as talk.

Just what were they? 

“We can’t let you go in. Anyway, we’re basically saving your life: she’ll kill you if she gets her claws on you. At least we’re giving you a chance to go home before we rip you apart.” The purple one said, waving its big paws grumpily. With its growling tones, the voice coming from the animal was a lot different to the one from the owl. 

“Yeah, don’t make us get bitey.” 

Pearl opened her mouth to reply, but a soft song drifted down from the sky. She looked up, realizing that someone was on the roof of the manor, rather than inside. It was a song and a voice she would never fail to recognize: Greg was singing for Rose. Determination steeled, she looked at the two guards, then at the door. She could not get in that way, even if the two animals were not standing sentinel. Still, she was not getting an overtly threatening sense from them: yes, they were big, scary animals, but besides tackling her face as a bird, they had not done anything to harm her. 

They had plenty of chances to, yet they chose to talk to her instead. 

“I’m getting up there. You two. What are your names?” 

“I’m Amethyst,” the purple bear said proudly, until she was headbutted by a wolf. “Argh! Peridot, stop! What’s the problem if she knows our names? She’s going to get eaten anyway!” 

“I’m not going to eat anyone,” Peridot huffed, looking grossed out by the idea. “I hate these forms. This one definitely wants to taste her.” 

“That’s not only weird, but it’s inappropriate, and you’re going to have to control your instincts, Pear.” 

Pearl watched the two as they bantered, blinking. Shaking her head, she moved to the side of the manor, putting her sword away and hefting her shield to a strap on her back. She grabbed on to the vines that crawled up the wall, gritting her teeth and climbing her way up a few feet. It felt like a lot farther, though, and she was beginning to regret her decision to try to scale a building in an effort to rescue the Lord of her house. The borrowed armor was very heavy, and the added weight of gravity, while fighting against it, only made that worse. The storm had not let up, either, making everything slick with water. 

A small bird landed on her head, and though she tried to shake it off, it just dug it’s talons into her soft, orangish pink hair. To her surprise, it opened its wings as if to shield her from the still driving rain. 

“You’ve got some balls, I give you that,” the purple jay said. A second jay joined her, taking roost on Pearl’s head as the servant continued her arduous climb. She heaved a very irritated sigh, but could not afford to use her hands to swat the birds away now. 

Her strange companions fell silent as she climbed, rather invested in her profound efforts. Lion stood below, staring up at Pearl and huffing unhappily as she got higher and higher. The vines and plants, along with the rubble and damage to the building itself, allowed her to climb up easier than she thought. It was still exhausting, though, and she dragged herself up over the edge of the roof, collapsing to the rooftop surface and struggling to gain her breath. Her arms were burning viciously from the exertion, acid burning through her muscles and making her arms shake now that she was able to stop. Sheer determination and willpower had gotten her up those last few feet. 

The two birds settled on the plate of her armor, looking down at her face. 

“Pearl?!”

Pearl struggled to turn to her side, looking behind her to spot the source of the cry.

“Lord Greg!” 

He was in a cage. Or something fashioned to be a cage: it was built from twisted metal rods and broken slabs of stone, crudely forced together by something impossibly strong, and unlikely to be opened by anything less than a dragon. Pearl got to her feet with some difficulty, hurrying over to the cage and grabbing on to the bars. Greg was sitting inside, looking pale and exhausted. She saw blood stains on his clothes, realizing quickly that he was injured. 

“I’m going to get you out of here, just hold on, my Lord.” 

“P-Pearl…”

The fear in his voice did not go unnoticed, and Pearl turned, drawing her sword. A shadow fell over her and she looked up in time to see a massive creature drop from the sky. It landed next to her with enough force to shake the roof, but it was the big hand smashing into her that was really difficult to miss. She was thrown off her feet, sword clattering away from her as she skidded to a stop. The shadow followed her, blotting out the sky and actually stopping the rain from hitting her. 

“What are you doing with my prisoner?”

Pearl could not drag her eyes away from the beast that stood before her. It was not the dragon from before, the monster that attacked them in the square. It was smaller, though certainly not small, standing on two bestial legs and holding itself upright proudly. It looked feminine, and though the voice was low and rumbling, it sounded that way, too. Her upper body was powerful, muscular arms and broad shoulders set on a barrel of a chest. It was covered in fur, running from the middle of her abs up to her neck, around her shoulders. She had long hair on her head as well, thick and wild, flowing down her back. Both were the same just off white color, over the brilliant, deep orange of her striped skin and scales. Long, curved horns came from her head, over her ears. Another set, smaller, were set in her forehead, just visible behind the thick hair. 

Her face was almost human, strong lines and an exotic beauty, despite the fangs that were visible under the drawn frown of her thick lips. She reached a clawed hand to grab Pearl by the front of her armor, hauling her up off the ground by a couple feet to bring them eye to eye. The beasts’ wings were folded against her back and shoulders, hanging around her like a cape of leather. 

“I recognize you,” she growled lowly. She took a slow sniff, just to be sure, making Pearl’s nose wrinkle in distaste.

“You attacked my home!” 

“YOUR home?” the monster snarled, wings opening as she let out a furious roar. Pearl grimaced at the sound, shuddering but staring at her as steadily and angrily as she could. She would not be scared, not by petulant displays of raw power. True strength came from the exact opposite place, and she could handle anything as long as she stayed calm and clear headed. Easier said than done, when being whipped around and thrown across a rooftop, nearly falling completely off of it if not for grabbing on to the broken ledge. Scrambling up, she took a run forward as the monster charged at her, diving down and under her massive claws as they swung just over where she had been standing. Skidding, she grabbed the sword from where it fell, taking the hilt in both hands and throwing her body back the way she had come. She was on her feet in a flash, leaping at the monster. 

The beast lashed out with her terrible, clawed hand, catching Pearl around her slight waist and tightening her grip immediately. Pearl heard an unfortunately crunch, falling limp but refusing to let go of the sword. Laughing, the dragon drew her prey close, taking a step toward the cage to add her to it, but Pearl swung her sword up and smashed the hilt of it under the monster’s jaw with surprising, determined force. Ears ringing and stars bursting before her eyes, the dragon dropped Pearl on reflex, grabbing her face in pain and surprise before stumbling to her knees. 

Pearl landed heavily, pain tearing through her side, but quickly ran over and brought her sword forward, pointing it at the dragon’s neck. 

“Yield, beast! I’ve bested you!” She panted. The dragon’s blazing, anger filled eyes turned toward her, a deep, resonating snarl escaping her throat. One of her fangs on her lower jaw had been knocked loose from the blow, and she pulled it free before spitting blood at Pearl’s feet. 

“Then kill me.” 

“I have no intention of killing you,” Pearl snapped, her patience gone. “I came for Lord Greg, and that’s all I want! I need you to release him: I cannot open that cage on my own. Open it, and let him return to his son. Swear to me never to hunt him again, and I will spare your life and return the promise with my own, to let you live in peace. You will never have to see either of us again.” 

“Oh, you’re kind of dumb, aren’t you?” Peridot chirped from somewhere behind her, sitting on the cage with Amethyst in their small bird forms. 

“She doesn’t know, Pear,” Amethyst grunted, “but yeah. Not the best move..” 

Pearl held her ground bravely, keeping her sword pointed at the monster’s neck. For her part, the dragon was unimpressed, reaching up and grabbing on to the sword. It cut into her palm and she only tightened her grip until the blade snapped, to Pearl’s shock. She drew her arm back, keeping hold of the broken sword, but she had no time to attack before the dragon’s other fist collided with her midsection in one of the most powerful punches Pearl had ever seen, much less experienced. She gagged, all the air being forced out of her lungs and even as she was sent flying, sprawling across the rooftop, her senses plunged into darkness. She rolled lifelessly until she came to a stop in a crumpled pile in front of the cage, Greg screamed for her and then turning to hurl every name her could think of at the dragon for her dishonorable attack. Not that she knew anything about being a knight.

“Lady Jasper,” Peridot questioned softly, as the dragon walked over to grab Pearl from the floor. She dragged her unceremoniously by her arm, using the other hand to lift the cage. She tossed Pearl in, Greg hurrying to her side only to have his own arm grabbed. He was yanked from the cage before it slammed down. Jasper transformed, her hand growing enough to grab him much more firmly as she spread her wings and took to the sky. Peridot and Amethyst fluttered after her, watching as she swooped low and dropped Greg somewhere in the middle of the forest.


	6. Gentle Suggestions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beautiful half-beast called a dragon is actually Jasper, a bitter and damaged war survivor. She struggles to control her three servants, who, for some reason, seem to think she is being very mean to Pearl by leaving her out in the rain after punching her lights out. There's a lot of back story for both Jasper and Pearl here, and the introduction of a new character.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your continued support on all my projects, and your patience for new content! I love the comments, so please keep them coming. Hope you like this new chapter!

“Mistress,” the purple lioness purred, swishing her tail behind her as she padded along after the Lady Jasper, who was stomping so hard through the halls she was further cracking the already ruined floors, “are you going to leave her up there all night?” 

“Yes.” 

“But it’s cold. And it’s raining. And you hurt her pretty bad,” Amethyst frowned gently. Back when she served this household for what it was, she would never have questioned her mistress in such a way, let alone attempt to actually convince her of something. But over the years, living in this cursed state, things had gotten a little more casual.

Only a little: there was a lot she could not get away with still, even as she continued to push the limits further and further out. 

“So?” 

“So… she could be dead by the time you get up there in the morning. I don’t really see what she did to deserve that, since you were trying to get revenge on that tubby guy. I get it, he married the knight that did all this and took our castle and whatever, but I think this girl is just a servant. The clothes under her armor were-” 

“Stop talking,” Jasper growled, turning abruptly just before they reached the door to her study. She glared at Amethyst darkly, the lion shrinking back a few steps before sitting heavily on her haunches and bowing her head. Jasper growled, stepping toward her dangerously. “I know that girl. I recognize her. She is staying up there. And if she dies, then it is one less thing for me to take care of later. Do you understand me, Amethyst?” 

“Yes, my lady.” 

“Get out of my sight.” 

Amethyst shifted into an owl, flapping her wings and hurrying back the way she had come, feeling a strange weight in her chest. She flew through a hole in the roof in what used to be a dining room, landing lightly on the cage on the roof and peering in at the prisoner. She was still unconscious, breathing raggedly and with soft, pained moans as she lay coiled in a puddle of water that had collected on the uneven surface of the battered roof. Amethyst knew Jasper would rip her apart if she tried to help the injured trespasser, but she also could not help but feel incredibly bad for the spindly, weak, but very brave faux knight. 

 

Jasper sat heavily down on what was once a grand chair. She had ripped the back off of it, covered it in torn and damaged pillows, and created something closer to a nest for herself to sit in. With her size, only amplified by the mutation she underwent with this terrible curse, meant fitting in or on certainly places was very difficult. She kept her wings folded around her. She kept her tail curled against her body as she rested, growling softly and running her claws over the soft fur that topped it in idle thought. 

Why should she care if that maid died? She trespassed here, despite a powerful magical spell that was meant to keep all unwanted visitors away in an endless maze. Something allowed her through, though Jasper was unsure what. Perhaps Amethyst led her, and that was why she was trying to protect the miserable wretch now. It made no sense, though, as it was impossible for the two to have known each other before any of this happened, and Pearl was only there to rescue her ‘lord’. A false title given to an invader that stole homes and lived on top of corpses. Jasper growled, clenching her claws into what passed as a fist for her in this half-beast state, though she was still holding her tail and it hurt rather a lot. 

That scent. She remembered it from the night her home was taken from her, the night her parents were killed. The night the rebels raided her Kingdom, and that horrible Rose Quartz used her evil powers to take what was not hers, and had no right to ever be hers. She claimed a rank, and name, through murder and deceit, making herself a happy life while leaving Jasper and her few surviving servants in destitude. She embarrassed them, shamed them, and not even the magic Jasper had given her soul for could stop it from happening.

She had been lied to. Promised a future she was not granted, when she agreed to become a monster in order to save her home. Grimacing, Jasper ran a hand through her thick mane of hair, scratching her claws across her scalp and trying desperately to clear her mind of the terrible memories flooding back to her. 

The scent. That girl. The knight that stood against her, keeping her from delivering the one desperate, final strike that would have surely ended the war. That stupid, pathetic little creature threw its body in the way of her vengeful claws, pushing Rose Quartz to the side. The rebel leader did not hesitate, stabbing her sword into Jasper’s side even as the dragon’s claws tore through the thin, feeble flesh of someone never built to see war, blood staining her fur. Some times, she thought she could still smell it, which was why that scent returning to her now was so jarring. 

How could she ever forget? 

Rose Quartz cried over her fallen knight, hugging her tightly to her chest and sobbing like a woman who had lost more than just a servant. Jasper remembered, as she lay bleeding on the floor, the sword deeply imbedded in her scaled flesh. She watched as Rose tore the helmet off the knight, whose short hair looked much softer in the dim gloom of the early morning. Peach, though it had looked so pink before. Longer, too, than when she put the helmet on at the beginning of the fight. 

The rebel leader turned to leave, carrying the dying soldier in her arms, and did not even cast a single glance back to the creature she felled, claiming victory without mercy. Without even ending her miserable, cursed life. Jasper managed to drag herself away, hiding in the forest, where her two remaining servants, out of hundreds, managed to find her and help tend to her injuries. They retreated to this castle once it was abandoned by the war efforts, all the patients and doctors that had been using it for medical support being transferred to proper hospitals and clinics and leaving this once proud and noble home empty. 

Magic seeped into it when Jasper, Peridot, and Amethyst moved into it. As if the curse was spreading from them, claiming this home as theirs and both destroying it while protecting it all at once. It did not take them long to discover that they could not leave too far beyond its borders in the deep forest, unable to return to their city and true home, but they also found the maze and other magical barriers that hid them from the outside world. For some time, they lived quietly as Jasper recovered, and the war was lost. Until a third member of her former staff found her way to them, through magic alone. 

“You’re worried about her,” a voice said boredly, and Jasper grunted in response. 

“Why would I be worried about someone that cost me my vengeance. Cost me everything. Had I been able to destroy that General the knight of the raid, none of this would have happened!” 

“None of what? You sold your own soul, remember, and all of ours as well. You brought this on yourself. That battle was just a well timed excuse: you were already going to destr-”

“ENOUGH.” Her voice echoed through the entire manor, booming loud enough to rattle a broken mirror on the wall nearby. A bland, unimpressed blue face appeared in the mirror, regarding the beast impatiently. 

“Hiding in denial does not change the facts.” 

“I told you to stop speaking, Lazuli.” 

“As your advisor, my only job is to speak.” 

“Then you’re fired,” Jasper growled, turning away from the mirror and curling on her makeshift nest so her back was to the blue face staring at her. “Go find something else to do, Lazuli.” 

“And what would you suggest? My options are pretty limited, considering. But here, I can just go keep an eye on our guest, like you asked. Though the occupant is different, the mirror is still there.” The image in the mirror shifted, revealing what she could see through the other mirror. Out on the cage, there was a shard of reflective glass attached to the makeshift bars, which acted as a slight security camera in a world without technology. In the image, Pearl was sitting against the cage now, upright and holding her arms around her injured midsection with a look of pain on her face. She had taken her chest plate off, and managed to tie it to the cage in an effort to keep herself out of the rain. Soaked through and shaking already, it offered little comfort. 

Jasper poked her head over her shoulder to watch the image, grunting. 

“Am I supposed to feel guilt for someone I know is a dangerous, violent knight, loyal to a true monster?” 

“Yeah, you’re right,” Lapis Lazuli’s sarcastic voice seemed to drip from no where. In the image, a small purple bird, shifted once again and no longer an owl, landed next to Pearl, leaning its head out and putting a small branch of berries down beside her hand. She was outside the protective barrier of the chest plate umbrella, rain falling over her rumpled feathers as she nudged the berries closer with her talon. Pearl turned her head to the side to regard the bird, offering a thin, painful smile before reaching her hand out and holding it over Amethyst in an effort to shield her from the rain and encourage her closer. Her hand was shaking. The berries were from the magical forest, and had pain relieving qualities to them, which made Jasper growl. Were all her servants interested in helping this interloper?

“I can see why you’re scared of her. She must weigh something close to ninety pounds. And look at those threatening trembles.” 

“Silence, Lazuli,” Jasper warned again. She watched as Amethyst hopped closer to Pearl, picking up the berries as she did so. A green bird landed under the shelter of the armor, shaking off its feathers as it perched on Pearl’s knee and splashing her with the excess water. 

“Oh, look, she sneezed. Do you think that’s a magic spell? I should warn Amethyst and Peridot to stay back.” 

With a loud roar, Jasper got up from her nest suddenly, stomping from the room. Why did she even keep a mirror in there, when her ‘adviser’ was nothing but annoying? Lapis’ face appeared in the mirror again, and she frowned softly as the beast left her sight. Until she passed in front of another mirror, which were scattered throughout the manor, she would not be able to continue to persuade her. 

Thankfully, the next mirror Lapis saw her in was the one in the cage. Jasper flew through the hole in the roof and landed heavily next to the cage, snarling at her two traitorous minions, who both fluttered away from Pearl as quickly as they could. Pearl regarded Jasper without fear, despite the sound beating she had taken, holding on to the berries she had been given but not yet taking one. Jasper grabbed the bottom of the cage and hauled it up, tossing it to the side before seizing Pearl by the neck and hauling her off the ground. The small hand maid let out a strangled cry of pain, clawing feebly at Jasper’s arm before the sudden surge of agony stole her already limited consciousness from her. 

Without looking at Peridot or Amethyst, or the mirror that was still attached to the upended cage, Jasper dragged her captive into the manor, two excited, trilling, green and purple birds fluttering after her in surprise and delight.


End file.
